


This week it's your turn

by Tenoko1



Series: Supernatural Prompts [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Chores, F/M, M/M, Slice of Life, Sneaky Jack is not Sneaky, Team Free Will 2.0 (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 15:02:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20677337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tenoko1/pseuds/Tenoko1
Summary: Arguments over Dean's Stampede Motel mug, miscommunication regarding chores, and how a family works together to raise a Nephilim.





	This week it's your turn

**Author's Note:**

> Fic is for lil-uhura on Tumblr and Twitter.

The world had not ended, and everything was different, but in the small ways, the important ways, things were the same as always.

Which was not a _good_ aspect first thing in the morning when it involved shouted names echoing down the corridors of the bunker, entire paragraphs worth of threats and retribution woven into a two-syllable word.

“SAMMY!!!”

Heaving a sigh, Castiel handed Jack the cereal box and settled down on the seat across from Eileen.

She hummed and tilted her head, cheeks bulging rather adorably around a too-large bite of food.

The arguing came closer until Sam lopped in with a dramatic eye roll. Dean was close on his heels and looking stormy.

Jack leaned closer, voice low. “Is this a prank war?”

“Mm, more like Dean probably found out about the lost dog Sam harbored until we found the owners.”

“--y’know? Whatever happened to privacy?” Dean demanded. As he turned in exasperation, Sam caught Cas’ eye, widening his briefly, and making Cas bite back a smile. “What happened to boundaries? Respect for personal property?” He squawked as Sam grabbed the coffee pot and refilled his mug. “Don’t refill it! I am literally in the middle of outrage at this breach of trust, Sam!”

Mouth twisted, Sam rolled his head around to give his brother a look. “Breach of trust?”

“You don’t just go into a man’s room--”

“The door was _open_, and it’s your _room_, not a separate building.”

“Some things are _sacred_,” Dean insisted.

Jack’s face scrunched. “Dean thinks y’all’s room is sacred?”

Castiel shook his head with a frown.

Eileen tapped the table, then signed, “Is this about porn?”

He spluttered a laugh. “No.”

“_Sacred_?” Sam echoed, his whole body somehow conveying indignation.

“Uh oh,” whispered Jack.

Grabbing the handle on the dishwasher, Sam let it fall open and yanked out one of the full racks. “You wanna know what’s sacred?_ Doing your part of the chores_ every week like _washing _and _unloading _the _dishwasher_!”

Jack flinched.

Dean held up a finger. “No! No. Because I had dish duty _last _week--”

Sam shoved a hand toward the far wall, all eyes following the gesture. “We have a _chore board_ for a _reason_, Dean!”

“Yeah, and I have _floors _this week!”

“No, you--”

“--and even if I didn’t, that is no excuse to go into a man’s room and take something-- on _display_, even-- something _valued _and _treasured_\--”

“There _are. _no. clean. coffee. mugs, Dean!” Sam exclaimed, sloshing coffee over the rim of the Stampede Motel mug in his hand. They both grunted frustration at the other, reaching for dish towels, Sam to wipe his hand and the cup, Dean to clean up the mess on the floor. “Glad you finally got the memo! Now can you please wash and unload the dishwasher, so we have plates and silverware and _coffee mugs_?”

Dean straightened. “It’s. Not. My. Week.” He tossed the dishcloth into the sink, swinging around to point. “_See_? I have… floors.” His anger stuttered out, arm falling slack as he squinted and frowned at the board that clearly said he was on dish duty. “I had dishes last week though,” he murmured.

Eileen looked at Cas and Jack when she couldn’t see Dean’s mouth. Jack began rapidly signing, lips pressed together.

“He _is _right,” Cas said. The brothers turned. Castiel gestured toward the board. “Dean was on dish duty all last week.”

Dean shoved a hand toward him. “Thank you!”

Frowning, Sam turned to Eileen. “Babe, you did the board, didn’t you?”

She nodded. “Dean had floors.” She jerked her thumb, smirk curling the corner of her mouth. “_Jack_ had dishes.”

All heads slowly turned toward the nephilim.

He winced, shoulders hunched up and casting furtive glances that managed to not meet anyone’s eye. “I _did _ask if you would switch with me.”

Mouth twisted, Dean leaned back against the counter and folded his arms. “When?”

“You were working on the Impala.”

His eyes narrowed. “You mean _after _I’d already done the floors for the week? When I had the _radio on _and could barely hear you? And _clearly _thought you asked if I’d want to watch a movie-- _which we later did_?”

Jack hunched in on himself even more. “...Maybe.”

Cas’ lips wobbled with a barely suppressed laugh, and he turned his head away, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

Eileen snorted and bent over her breakfast.

Sam schooled his features, brows drawing together. “Jack… you can’t do that. It’s not fair, and it’s not honest. Families and teams mean everybody works _together_.”

Dean nodded, jerking his head toward Sam. “Otherwise, people get frustrated and angry because something that _needs _to be done isn’t, and it makes things harder on everybody. If you wanna switch chores with someone, _that’s fine_, but make sure they know what you are asking.” One brow ticked up. “No more being sneaky.”

Jack nodded.

Sam sighed and relinquished the Stampede Motel mug to Dean. “And after you finish breakfast, _do the dishes_.”

“And wash some mugs by hand so we can have coffee,” Dean added, already rinsing out and washing his stolen mug.

Sam slid his brother a look. “Sorry I got mad at you.” Dean waved him off. “And that I went in yours and Cas’ room to take your mug. That was petty. I’m sorry.”

Dean tossed aside a dishrag, already heading from the kitchen. “Just a misunderstanding, don’t worry about it.” He faltered in the doorway and turned, eyes narrowed and pointing at Sam. “You ever touch my mug again, though, know that your hair will never be safe. Nair. Dye. Scissors. You never know what or when. Understand?”

Sam chuckled and waved him off. “Yeah, yeah, no touching the sacred artifacts.” Hazel eyes slid to the table. “And Jack?”

Bent over his cereal and rapidly shovelling into his mouth, Jack nodded. “Dishes. Got it.”

Eileen laughed. “Don’t choke. They aren’t going anywhere.”

Cas leaned toward him with a pointed expression. “You should probably offer to take Dean’s chores for next week as an apology.”

Jack deflated, gaze distant and forlorn. “I hate chores.”

Sam laughed and pushed away from the counter. “Everybody hates chores, kid. They’ve still gotta get done. Best to put on some music and get it out of the way.”

“Where are you headed off to?” Cas questioned.

Sam grinned. “I’m gonna go order a bunch of Stampede Motel mugs and put them all over the bunker with coffee rings in them, then watch Dean have a conniption.” He placed his hand against his chest. “As the little brother, I’m practically honor-bound at this point.”

Cas shook his head on a laugh. “Please just stop before things get out of control.”

His grin widened. “Oh, I am pretty sure my wife would put all of us in our place well before that happens.”

Hands in his pockets, Sam began whistling as he headed for the library.

END


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